


ride with me, i'll ride with you

by skamz



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: (can you blame him though), Fluff, M/M, SKAM Secret Santa, a bit of miscommunication, isak falls so hard for even in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamz/pseuds/skamz
Summary: In an ideal world, Isak would spend this ride sitting by himself at the back of the train. In the real world, however, he has to allow this stranger to sit next to him.(A stranger whose shoulder he soon finds himself falling asleep on.)





	ride with me, i'll ride with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waitineedaname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitineedaname/gifts).



> hi hi hi! this is a little au that i wrote as a pinch hit for the skam secret santa, in which, as you might already know, isak falls asleep on even's shoulder during a train ride! and then, like, other things happen.
> 
> a huuge (huge) thank you to [marte](judestfrncis.tumblr.com) who read over this, even though it's super late rn. they're so great, and i'm so lucky to have them as a friend, honestly 
> 
> last but not least, lily - i know you said you enjoy aus and fluff, and this has quite a bit of fluff in it, so i really hope you'll enjoy this little gift :) i know it's the 7th, but happy new year nonetheless :))

“Hey, you mind if I sit here?”

_Well._

So, here's the thing: Isak has only paid for one train seat, and therefore he really has no say over who gets to sit or not on the one next to his. Does he mind, though? Maybe just a little. Would he have preferred to spend the next six hours by himself, without having to feel a stranger’s constant presence by his side? Yeah, he actually would have.

He looks up to his new seat neighbor, who’s...beautiful. He's tall and his hair looks silky and his eyes are so blue and his lips are plump, and even his nose is nice looking (and his neck, and his hands). So—he's a beautiful looking guy, Isak supposes. At least there’s that, or whatever.

Isak shakes his head, and the stranger offers him a small smile.

“There’s more room for your legs in the seats at the very back,” he begins, stretching out his legs as if to prove his point. “Which I sort of need because my legs are pretty...long.”

He then takes out a glassine bag with a croissant in it from his backpack, making quite a lot of noise in the process. He takes a large bite out of the croissant, crumples up the bag, puts it back in his backpack and makes even more noise and, honestly, could he be any less considerate?

Isak side-eyes him.

“Is that why you’re sitting here?” The guy asks.

“Hm?”

“You’re pretty tall too, no?”

“That’s not—”

Isak simply happens to always sits at the back—in classes and buses and trains and anywhere, really. That’s what he does, that’s what he prefers, but he doesn’t exactly feel like letting that guy know.

“It was random,” he ends up saying with a shrug.

The stranger huffs out a small laugh, and his smile reaches his eyes. “Okay,” he replies, before taking another bite of his croissant.

***

The train took off barely fifteen minutes ago, and the guy already has his laptop out, and from the corner of his eyes, Isak notices that he started watching a movie.

It's quite hypocritical of Isak, really, considering that one of the main reasons why he likes to sit at the back and would rather sit alone is because he wants a certain level of privacy, and he sort of can’t stand people looking at what he’s doing, looking at him.

Which is exactly what he’s doing right now, and he could try to blame it on the fact that he hasn’t slept, tell himself that he’s not consciously looking at the guy’s face, but Isak’s eyes  _have_  been lingering on his mouth, and that little croissant flake stuck to his bottom lip for a good five seconds now, which is honestly too long for him to not have realized what he’s been doing, and maybe, _maybe_ , he simply hasn’t wanted to look away during any of these seconds.

The guy licks his lip, and the flake is gone. Isak blinks and straightens up in his seat, looks outside the window instead.

“Wanna watch?” The stranger asks, and Isak almost chokes on his own spit. But then he pops one of his earbuds out, offering it to Isak.

 _Oh_ , he meant the movie.  _Obviously, right._

 _Are you sure_? Isak wants to ask—how could this guy not prefer to watch it in peace, by himself, with both of his earbuds? And why on earth would he want to watch a movie with Isak, and does Isak even actually want to watch and—

“It’s a good one,” he argues, half-teasing and half-reassuring.

Isak opens his mouth, and then closes it again. His eyes go from the laptop screen, to the guy’s face, and then back to his hand holding the earbud.

_Just take it. Honestly, don’t be all weird. At three, you take it._

_One, two, three._

“Sure,” he replies, and there’s no way his nod is as nonchalant as he wants it to be.

***

When the ride becomes particularly bumpy at one point, Isak gets startled awake.

_Wait._

_What._

Isak lifts his head up and it hits him all at once—the blanket covering him, the phantom feeling of a shoulder on his cheek, the bit of saliva on the corner of his mouth because he’s been  _drooling_.

He is, to put it simply, fucking mortified.

“Shit,” he mumbles, sitting back up quickly—too quickly, it makes his head throb a little—and he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

Isak dares to look to the side, to the stranger whose shoulder he apparently fell asleep on, and he’s got this barely there, kind looking smile on his face and Isak doesn’t understand, and he feels so—

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out.

“Don’t apologize to  _me_ ,” the guy corrects, crooking an eyebrow. “Denis Villeneuve’s the one you should be apologizing to.”

It’s just—way too early for this. Well, not exactly  _early_  (what time is it, anyway?), but Isak is still hungry for sleep and it feels like he was woken up right in the middle of REM sleep, which would explain why his head feels tight and his nose stuffy and why his eyes sting a little and he doesn’t get what the guy is saying at all.

“I’d be pretty offended if someone fell asleep ten minutes into watching one of my movies,” he continues, but his tone is not accusatory in the slightest. His voice is gentle, and hearing it is nice, Isak is quick to realize—almost soothing. Which is odd because Isak doesn’t usually like sounds when he wakes up.

And then Isak remembers—the movie,  _Arrival_  or something, and the UFOs landing on earth.

“Did they, hm, you know, manage to understand them?” he asks, figures he can at least attempt to make conversation, as if he could possibly appear casual right now.

“The aliens?”

Isak nods, and he can feel the blanket against his chin as he does and it’s so soft and warm around him and he honestly needs to give it back right now, and he’s still confused as to how on earth he ended up being covered by it. Well, actually, he knows  _how_ , because there’s just one logical explanation for this, and Isak is alert enough to think logically, but still.

_Why?_

“Well, I can’t just spoil you, can I?”

Isak doesn’t know what to reply to that (so much for trying to make conversation) and now he feels the urge to yawn, but he stops himself, not wanting to seem rude on top of everything else.

The guy seems to scan his face for a moment, and Isak bets he looks especially awful, and it kind of makes him want to cover himself with the blanket, hide under it. Which is ridiculous, honestly, and he needs to at least try to act like he’s older than five years old.

“You should go back to sleep,” he ends up whispering.

And, yeah—Isak really should try to, that sounds like the wisest decision he could make right now.

He lets out a small sigh, his eyes threatening to close themselves, and he begins to pull the blanket off of himself to give it back, but the guy puts a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“No, keep it,” he says.

“Really?”

“Of course,” he replies, and he looks and sounds so sincere, like he might actually want to give up what is quite possibly the most comfortable blanket in the world so Isak can have it instead. “Come on,” he tells, tapping his own shoulder, and  _hold on_ , is he suggesting—

“But that’s not comfortable for you,” he tells him, almost protesting, too tired to actually put up a fight.

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures him.

And then it’s just really weird, how Isak’s heart picks up a little speed as he ever so slowly leans his head toward his shoulder. “This makes no sense at all,” he says, the words half-muffled into the guy’s sweater, only realizing that he actually said them out loud when he hears him chuckle in response.

Isak closes his eyes, and senses that he’s about to fall back asleep at any second, which is some sort of miracle, because he never does so easily. “Thank you,” he murmurs, and this time he actually hopes the guy heard him.

Isak feels him secure the blanket that’s beginning to slide off his own shoulder, then feels him rest his cheek on the top of his head. “You’re welcome,” he whispers back.

***

They’re only one hour away from Stockholm when Isak wakes up again, feeling more well-rested this time.

He doesn’t lift up his head immediately, allows himself the comfort of staying just like this, breathing in the guy’s scent, soaking up the warmth that emanates from him. But he soon starts to feel like he’s taking advantage of the situation somehow, because the guy only offered him a shoulder to sleep on (that’s what they implicitly agreed on, right?) and now Isak is awake and he needs to—

He needs to let go already.

And so he does, lifting his head up and moving away from him, and the whole left side of his body that was pressed against him suddenly feels colder.

“Hey,” the guy greets him, and Isak thinks that he should know his name by now, finds himself wanting to know it. But it feels like they’ve reached this stage in their...seat neighbor relationship where it’d be too awkward to ask, like perhaps they should’ve asked each other that question before Isak fell asleep on him for a second time, or maybe when they decided to watch a movie together, a whole five hours ago.

“Hey,” he replies.

“You mumbled in your sleep, you know,” the guy says, and the sunlight shining through the window makes his eyes appear so bright and so blue and his smile is almost blinding.

Isak feels his face heating up at the revelation.

“I couldn’t really make out what you were saying, though, but I think you mentioned aliens and the universe at some point?”

At least he didn’t reveal any compromising information—not that he has any compromising information to reveal, mind you, but this could’ve been...worse.

“I’m sorry,” he says, gently chewing the inside of his cheek.

“It’s alright,” the guy replies, and now the sunlight isn’t shining on his face, and there’s no excuse for his eyes to look this bright, seriously. "I'm Even, by the way."

 _Even_. It suits him, somehow, it just—it does.

_Even, Even._

Isak quickly shakes his head; now would be the appropriate moment to tell him his own name. "Isak," he says, holding out his hand by reflex, and when he realizes that he probably shouldn't need to shake hands with the guy he just spent hours sleeping against, it's already too late, and Even is crooking an eyebrow, smiling nonetheless.

He shakes Isak's hand. "Nice to meet you, Isak."

Isak bites the inside of his lip. "Likewise," he replies.

“So...aliens, hm? You believe in them?”

It catches him off guard, at first, but Isak actually considers the question. “I don’t know,” he begins and Even tilts his head to the side a little, and he has this curious look on his face. “I mean, yeah, there has to be some sort of extraterrestrial life out there, because, like,” Isak pauses, sighing. “The universe is so big, you know. like, so, so big, huge, and we can’t just be the only ones, right?”

Even looks away momentarily, and then his eyes meet Isak’s again. His gaze feels...heavier, for some reason. “You’re probably right,” he says.

“Probably?”

He shrugs. “Sometimes you sort of forget just how big it all is. I mean, not forget, but you’re not exactly thinking about it...until you are, and it’s just—it’s dizzying.”

Isak agrees that it can be a little dizzying, thinking about the immensity of the universe. But it’s also wonderful, and fascinating and Isak absolutely loves it; it’s one of his favorite things to think about.

“But in a good way, no?” he asks.

Even purses his lips a little, and Isak notices how he’s fidgeting his fingers. “I don’t know, it," Even pauses, inhaling. "It scares me a little?" He confesses. “Don’t you get scared?”

Isak finds himself frowning at the question. “I don’t,” he replies without hesitation, and Even lowers his gaze, and he seems slightly embarrassed and—

 _Wait a second,_  Isak really doesn’t want him to be at all, and there’s this small tug in his stomach, like he needs to make sure he’s not.

“Not that it’s, like, not normal to be scared about it. I mean, the fear of the unknown is really common, and there’s so much we don’t know about the universe, so it’s totally okay to feel scared, and I also get scared of the things I don’t know sometimes, and like, yeah, no, I'm not scared of it, I don't think, but if you are...it’s cool,” he rambles quickly, and when he’s done he almost feels out of breath.

But then Even looks up and he smiles again, and Isak feels lighter, somehow. “It just makes me feel kind of small, like I’m this tiny, tiny dot,” he tells Isak. “God, that sounds totally cliché, doesn’t it?”

Isak shakes his head, a small smile on his lips as well. “No, I totally get that.” He pulls the blanket off of himself, rolls into a ball and holds it to his chest. “But, I mean, you’re not tiny, you’re so tall and your legs are so long that you felt like you had to sit here,” he teases.

Even lets out a silent gasp, but he seems clearly amused.

Isak bites his bottom lip, squeezing the blanket a little. “And I know that we’re tiny, in comparison to the whole universe. Like, the Earth is tiny and, hell, even the Milky Way is super tiny in comparison—but also, for some reason we still can’t fully explain...all these elements were combined perfectly billions of years ago to ultimately make life possible, you know? And those very specific combinations of specific elements on this specific planet allow us to exist as the human beings we are and experience things the way we do and, of course we’re tiny, objectively, but when you think about it this way, this all seems like some sort of miracle, like there are constantly little miracles happening everywhere, all the time, and that feels.” Isak stops and takes a deep breath. “That just feels grandiose, don’t you think?”

There are these few seconds, during which they simply look into each other’s eyes, and Isak can almost hear his own heartbeat.

"I think you’re pretty amazing,” Even replies at last, and Isak holds the blanket so tightly now, and there are goosebumps on the back of his neck. And when Even breaks into a grin, Isak can’t help but think about how this, right there, is a little miracle in itself.

***

It's unusual, to be disappointed by the announcement that they're soon arriving at their destination.

But he is.

"So, what brings you to Stockholm?"

Even had taken a sandwich out of his bag, and had offered half of it to Isak when he had seemed to realize that Isak hadn't brought any food with him. And Isak hadn't, had been in a hurry this morning to pack everything he needed for the weekend in his small luggage, and had forgotten to bring snacks for the road.

"I'm attending this, hm, conference on the advancements in the treatment of cancer," he tells him. "You?"

His eyes widen a little. "I'm just going to visit some people," he replies. "But, wow, treatment of cancer? That's really amazing, Isak."

There's something about the way Isak's name sounds coming out of his mouth just now. It's softly spoken, and there's a tinge of eagerness in his voice, and he says it like it holds value, somehow, maybe.

  
Maybe Isak is imagining it.

_God._

He barely even _knows_ the guy. And yet.

And yet there's this weird thing happening in the pit of his stomach, as he's looking at him, a thrilling sensation spreading, and warmth, and tingles dancing on his back like there's something to be celebrated.

"It is," he says, exhaling. "The speaker is, like, one of the most renown oncologists in the world."

Their eyes meet and Even smiles at him. "You want to help cure cancer?"

  
Isak shrugs. "I'm not sure if that's what I'm going to do, specifically, I'm not done with med school yet. But I had this prof last semester who was an oncologist, and she was just amazing. She's the one who told me about the conference. "

"Profs like that really are the best," Even says. "The ones who inspire you and make you want to do...more, you know?"

"Totally," Isak nods. He still has Even's blanket half curled up on his lap, half draped over his legs and his seat. Even starts toying with its hem, and for a few seconds Isak just stares. "You've, hm, had profs like that?"

Even's hand goes still. "I've had one or two in film school, I think, yeah."

 _Film school._  Isak takes mental note of the new information, finds himself wanting to know more. The train begins to slow down.

Shit.

"I think the one who inspired me the most was my art teacher in elementary school," he continues, huffing out a little laugh. "She'd always tell me that my art was really good, and she really seemed to mean it, you know?"

  
Isak nods, slightly endeared. "So, film school?"

"Mhmm." 

Isak nods again, and Even's smile widens. And then the train comes to a full stop, and he shoots a glance outside the window, and it falters a little. 

It's almost complete silence, as they get off. Even is the first to stand up, and Isak hands him his blanket, quickly thanking him again. Isak is walking behind him as they're heading toward the exist, and he's close, physically, but he seems increasingly out of reach. 

"So, we're here," Even tells him, as they stand in the crowded station. 

"We are," Isak says, the grip on the handle of his small luggage tightening a little. 

"My friend is, hm, gonna be there any second to pick me up, so I better go."

"Yeah." That tug in his stomach, he feels it, stronger and stronger. 

He hesitates for two whole seconds before his mind tells him  _go, go, go_ , and he quickly reaches for the front pocket of his luggage, where he knows his notepad is. He writes down his phone number, rips off the sheet, and maybe this is a bad idea, and maybe Even's reaction will make him want to slap himself a little, maybe he won't  _want_ his phone number or—or maybe he will, and Isak will pat himself on the back later, when he remembers this precise moment.

Isak swallows and holds his gaze. "My number," he says, handing him the sheet of paper. It's heavy in his hand. "I wanna stay in touch," he quickly adds. 

Even's eyes go down to his hand, and he briefly licks his bottom lip before taking the paper. "You beat me to it," he says, a grin spreading across his face. 

Isak exhales at the sight, at the emptiness in his hand. He's smiling, too.

It's going to be a pat on his back, then. 

***

Isak lets himself fall on his hotel room bed when he gets there. He should go over his notes, read some articles, in preparation for the conference tomorrow afternoon, and he  _will_. He's been looking forward to this for the past two months now, and it's his main focus, absolutely, but also—

He unlocks his phone, makes sure he has service, doubles checks his text messages in case he received one without getting a notification, but there's nothing. 

Isak puts his phone down for a whole minute, then picks it up again. 

Still nothing. 

Perhaps his phone plan doesn't allow him to text outside of the country? Perhaps he doesn't have an iPhone, and he can't receive iMessages? But wouldn't he have told him that? Or maybe he didn't plan on texting him this weekend?

 _God_. Why is he already getting impatient?

Isak closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.

It's just. It had just been a while, since he got to experience any type of physical intimacy with someone. Isak does briefly hug his friends, sometimes touches people when he greets them, but it doesn't—

It just doesn't compare to this, not in the slightest.

Because brief greeting gestures are not the same as falling asleep against another human being. They don't allow Isak to feel their warmth for hours, and to smell their scent, and to hear their breathing. They don't allow Isak to remember what it feels like, to be pressed against another body. They don't make him miss that feeling. They're not as comforting, and unforgettable, and they don't make Isak realize just how much he craves intimacy. They don't make him wish for more.

And if Isak is being honest, it's not just fact that he got to be physically close to another person. It's the fact that that person had been Even. It's the fact that the smiles the way he does, and his eyes shines the way they do. It's the kindness he had shown him, and this vulnerability he got to see a glimpse of. It's the stories Even didn't get to tell him; the stories Isak would like to hear.

It's this planted seed, and Isak hopes, believes, that if it was given the right attention and care, it could—

It could grow into some good. Something really good.

A ping. 

Isak quickly brings his phone close to his face. A foreign number, and a new message:  

 

> _Guess who this is :)_

He smiles dumbly at his screen. He saves the number under  _Even Train,_ and begins to type a reply. 

> _**Isak** _
> 
> _I don't know? Who could this possibly be?_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _Seriously? Come on, you're brainier than that, Isak_

Isak sits up, bitting his lip.   

 

> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _I gave my number to sooo many people today, it's just hard to keep track, you know?_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> **__ **
> 
> _How many people?_
> 
> _And here I was, thinking I was special or something_   __

And now he can't stop the grin that spreads across his face. His heart picks up a little speed as he thinks of what to say next, asks himself if he should just go ahead and say what he has in mind, or hold back instead. 

He shakes his head, begins to quickly type. He's going to go for it. 

> _**Isak** _
> 
> _You are_
> 
> _Special, I mean_
> 
> _Even :)_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _:)_
> 
> _You are, too._

It's ridiculous, how Isak keeps reading the messages over and over again, how there are butterflies in his belly as he does, how he's feeling himself melt into the mattress. He puts the phone down in the middle of his chest. 

It seems like they're feeding it, that seed.

Isak smiles to himself. 

***

They text about nothing and everything, get to know each other a little. Where they currently live, where they went to high school, what they studied after. Even lives in Oslo in a flat with some friends he went to Bakka with, some of which attended film school with him. He spent a year abroad in Stockholm during his studies, and worked for a production company there, made a couple of friends, which is the reason he is there for the weekend, to visit them. 

Even takes a picture of an adorable dog and sends it to Isak, stumbles upon some street art and sends him another picture, goes to a coffee place with his friends and asks Isak what his usual order is, and Isak learns that Even used to work at KB. 

After Isak finishes the meal he ordered from room service, he turns on the television in his room and takes a shot of it. 

> _**Isak** _
> 
> _Any suggestion, Mr. film school graduate?_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _Hmm_
> 
> _It's a big decision you're asking me to make_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Even, it's just a film_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _Just a film?_
> 
> _Just??_
> 
> _There's no such thing as "just" a film_
> 
> _What if you watch a particular film, and it speaks to you profoundly, and it changes the way you view certain things, and as a result, you do something you wouldn't have done otherwise, and your existence is changed forever, and you're never the same_
> 
> _God, you're asking me to make a decision that could potentially change your life here_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Oh my god_
> 
> _Are you serious right now?_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _I'm like_
> 
> _49.8% serious_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _And what about the other 50.2%?_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _The other 50.2% just likes to tease you_
> 
>  

A slightly high-pitched sound escapes Isak's throat. He hasn't done this—flirting, in a while. And it's exciting, and it's fun, and Isak just wants to keep talking to him, doesn't think he could get tired of that. 

> _**Even Train** _
> 
> _Have you seen Black Mirror?_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Hm, no? Should I?_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _Dude, you need to watch Black Mirror_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _"Dude"?_
> 
> _Okay, bro, I'll watch Black Mirror_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _You're so cute, Isak_

Isak feels heat spread through him, feels it reach his cheeks. He doesn't even want to imagine what shade of pink they must've turned.

> **Isak**
> 
> _S_   _hush_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _Cute :)_
> 
> _But seriously, I highly recommend it_
> 
> _It's not actually a movie, but it's an anthology series and each episode has different stories and characters, so they're all sort of little movies_
> 
> _Some episodes are pretty dark, but it really makes you think about society and the world and everything. I feel like you could be into that_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Okay, I'll trust you with that_
> 
> _**Even Train**  
>  _
> 
> _:)_
> 
> _If I had to recommend an episode for you to watch tonight, I'd say watch Hang the DJ, from the 4th season_
> 
> _**Isak**  
>  _
> 
> _Alright then, I'll watch that one. Thanks :)_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _My pleasure :)_
> 
> _I'm heading out now, but ttyl?_
> 
> _**Isak**  
>  _
> 
> _ttyl :)_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _:)_
> 
>  

Isak finishes watching the episode, and is left with a pleasant feeling as the credits roll in. He picks up his phone to share his thoughts about it with Even, but decides against it. Even had told him that he was heading out, which implied that he would be unavailable for a while. Right? 

He lets out a sigh, decides to go take a shower for now. And then he starts reading some of tomorrow's speaker's publications. Because this is the reason why he's here in the first place.  _Right_. He's not that eager to talk to Even again, and it's not at all affecting his level of concentration or anything like that.

"Jeez, focus," he orders himself. 

He does, however, drop everything he's doing, when he hears the sound of a text notification.  

> _**Even Train** _
> 
> _So?_
> 
> _**Isak** _
> 
> _I loved it, I loved how it ended_
> 
> _I wasn't expecting that_
> 
> _But I was really happy for them_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _Right?_
> 
> _They were so certain that they were destined to be together that they rebelled against this whole system_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _And they risked everything_
> 
> _998 times_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _How would you feel about an app like that, though?_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Now that I think about it, I don't know?_
> 
> _It could be very practical, and help you avoid heartache. And maybe find your perfect match_
> 
> _But I like to think that if I had a perfect match, I'd just meet them and I'd know?_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _I'd like to think that, too :)_

Isak goes to sleep that night feeling a little light, a little happy. He keeps his phone closer to him than he usually does.

***

The conference goes really well, the next day, and for a whole two hours, Isak is captivated by what the oncologist is telling the audience, feels like he's learning so much in such a short amount of time. He even finds his professor later, who introduces him to doctors and researchers, and Isak does a decent job at keeping a conversations with them. 

But then it's over, and they all leave the conference hall. 

Isak doesn't have any plans for his last evening in Stockholm; he might as well go explore the city while he's here. And the thing is that he'd really like—

He'd  _really_  like to do so with Even. 

Isak has been on dates with guys, but he can't remember the last time he's asked a guy out—has he  _ever_ asked a guy out? Well, there had been this guy in his neurophysiology class last year, but they hadn't made it past the end of the semester party, so.

He starts pacing around in his hotel room, his phone in his hand, until he bumps his toe on the corner of the  _fucking_ desk. 

"Fuck, fuck, fucking—shit," he curses, hopping on his other foot. He sits down on the bed, and glares at the desk. 

Isak lets out a sigh.  

> _**Isak** _
> 
> _Hey :) I'm gonna be a total tourist and go explore the city later. Wanna join? And actually show me the nice spots since you told me you lived here haha_
> 
> _Maybe we could grab a drink or something_
> 
> _Lemme know_

He lies back on the bed, starts starring at the ceiling. So, it's out there, the proposition. And Isak is absolutely  _not_  already impatiently waiting for a reply. He's chill about this. 

He  _is._ This whole thing is—

"Chill," he says, nodding to himself. 

He taps his fingers on the mattress, watches the clock ticking on the wall in front of him. 

Maybe Even has other plans for tonight, with the people he traveled here to visit. He actually most likely does. 

Isak sits up, grabs his phone. He begins to type another text, anticipates what Even will probably tell him.  

> _**Isak** _
> 
> _I totally get it If you already have other plans, though. We could meet up when we're back in Oslo instead_
> 
> _If you wanna :)_

An hour passes without Isak receiving a reply, and he tries not to think too much of it, but Even is usually really quick to reply to his texts, and he's never had to wait more than a minute or two for a response. Another hour passes, and another and—

Maybe he isn't carrying his phone with him at the moment, that  _happens_ , or maybe he's busy. Isak tries to convince himself that he's not purposely ignoring him. 

But then it's 20:00, and Isak is still in his hotel room, just pathetically  _waiting._

"Fuck this," he mutters. 

He quickly grabs his coat, wallet, and heads out. 

Isak is already downtown when he exits the hotel, and the evening air he inhales feels fresh in his lungs. He walks and walks, tries to clear his mind, take in the sights. But it's just buildings and people around him, and he doesn't really care. He then sees a couple walking their dog, which only reminds him of Even texting him a picture of a dog he saw yesterday. 

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, shakes his head. His stomach rumbles, and he realizes that he still hasn't had diner. 

Isak finds a small restobar, and he'd usually be a little embarrassed to just go in there by himself, but there's something about being in another country that just makes him not care. Whatever, he's leaving this place tomorrow morning. 

He orders a burger and a beer, waits for them to arrive and—

Isak fishes his phone from his pocket, checks it for any new messages. Nothing. Of course.  

> _**Isak** _
> 
> _Hey_
> 
> **_Jonas_ **
> 
> _Hey bro, what's up?_
> 
> _**Magnus** _
> 
> _HEYY_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Nothing's up_
> 
> **_Jonas_ **
> 
> _?_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Do I need a reason to text you guys now??_
> 
> **_Jonas_ **
> 
> _??_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _What??_
> 
> **_Mahdi_ **
> 
> _Dude_
> 
> _Why are you so pissy_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _I'm not fucking pissy_
> 
> **_Mahdi_ **
> 
> _^^^^_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Ugh, whatever_
> 
> **_Jonas_ **
> 
> _For real, what's up? Everything good where you are?_

Isak considers telling them, just to get this whole thing off his chest, and maybe get some perspective. He takes a large sip from his beer.  

> _**Isak** _
> 
> _Hm_
> 
> _There's this guy_
> 
> _**Magnus**  
>  _
> 
> _Oooooooh_
> 
> _oh oh_
> 
> _**Isak**  
>  _
> 
> _I met him on the train on the way here_
> 
> _I kinda slept on his shoulder_
> 
> _And then we started texting and stuff. But you know...like flirting a little_
> 
> **_Magnus_ **
> 
> _oooooooooooh_
> 
> **_Mahdi_ **
> 
> _Mags, just let him speak_
> 
> **_Magnus_ **
> 
> _Aight, go ahead. We're all ears_
> 
> _Or eyes?_
> 
> _Shit, do you say all ears or all eyes if you're texting?_
> 
> _Anyway_
> 
> _What happened with the guy?_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Nothing happened_
> 
> _That's the thing_
> 
> _We're like, texting. And I ask him if he wants to go for a drink or something, since it's my last night here, and he doesn't say anything_
> 
> _But usually he replies really quickly_
> 
> **_Jonas_ **
> 
> _Maybe he's busy?_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _That's what I was thinking but like_
> 
> _Idk_
> 
> **_Mahdi_ **
> 
> _You wanted to see him_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Yeah_
> 
> **_Magnus_ **
> 
> _Aw_
> 
> _It's okay_
> 
> _There are other fishes in the sea_
> 
> _Other meatballs in the Ikea store_
> 
> **_Mahdi_ **
> 
> _..._
> 
> _**Jonas**  
>  _
> 
> _It sucks, that you wanted to see him and he's not replying_
> 
> _But don't let it bum you out_
> 
> _Give him the benefit of the doubt for now?_
> 
> _**Mahdi** _
> 
> _Agreed :)_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Yeah_
> 
> _And he lives in Oslo, so_
> 
> **_Jonas_ **
> 
> _See! Not all is lost_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Okay_
> 
> _Thanks boys, you're the best_
> 
> _**Magnus**  
>  _
> 
> _**** _

Isak finishes his meal a little less pessimistic about the situation than he was when he got here. But then he's back in his hotel room, lying on his bed after he takes a shower, and he starts wondering again. 

So, there was this seed that had been planted when they were on the train together.

But maybe Even isn't interested in making it grow the way Isak is. Maybe he was, at first, but he woke up today and realized that it isn't really something that he wants anymore. But if that is the case, then Isak wishes he'd just let him know; he'd rather be rejected than to be left hanging.

Or maybe Isak has simply been mistaken all along and there wasn't even a seed to begin with, maybe it had just been some sort of small pebble instead, one that couldn't grow into anything. 

Whatever. 

Pondering about this is useless.

He turns off the light, and goes to sleep. 

***

The first thing Isak does when he wakes up the next morning is to check the time on his phone. Except—

Except his phone is off. 

He quickly glances at the clock, and jolts up. It's 10:00—his train left at 9:30. 

"Shit, shit, shit.  _Shit_!" 

He gets out of bed, rushes to get ready, but realizes as he's struggling to put his sock on that trying to get ready in a certain amount of time is completely futile, at this point.  

Isak lets out an exasperated groan. 

He fires up his laptop, searches for the next available train, and the only ticket he can buy is for the one that departs at 16:00. At least he'll still be able to leave today. 

However, he still needs to check out at noon. He starts packing the few things he took out of his luggage this weekend, and charges his damn phone. There's this sliver of hope he can't ignore when it turns back on—what if there's a reply from Even, at last? 

It soon vanishes as he sees that he hasn't sent him anything. 

Isak finds himself simply waiting at the train station, more than three hours before the train's departure. And then it's time to embark, and thankfully, the seats at the back are free—at least there's  _that_.  He sits by the window, puts his earphones in and plays his music library on shuffle. He'll just wait for the train ride to be over, and then he'll be back home and that's that, really.

He came to Stockholm to attend this conference he was looking forward to, and he did, and it turned out to be as interesting as he thought it would be. So, all and all, it was a good trip; it was exactly what he had hoped for before he left Oslo to come here—except maybe the fact that he had missed his return train this morning. Which isn't all that bad, and as compensation he got to sleep a little more. 

From the corner of his eyes, he sees people getting on the train and taking their seats, but he's not exactly paying attention. Until—

Wait, is it—

It  _can't_ be. 

Well, it  _can_ be. It's not a definite impossibility or something but—

Even is here, getting on  _this_ train,  _this_ wagon. What are the fucking odds? 

Isak's heart starts drumming in his chest, and he's about to turn his head toward the window, pretend he didn't see him, but then of course— of  _course—_ Even's eyes meet his, and it's too late. 

Isak swallows hard. 

Even just  _stands_ there, holding his gaze, and Isak can't quite read his face, both because it's unreadable and because even if it was, he can't think straight right now.

Another passenger stands behind him, obviously waiting for him to move and stop blocking the aisle, but Even doesn't seem to notice. The passenger taps his shoulder, startling him a little. 

Even keeps advancing, and a few steps later, he finds himself next to Isak. His eyes never leave his. 

Isak takes his earphones out.

"Can I—" Even starts, hesitating. "Can I sit here?" 

And the thing is Isak is honestly terrible at confrontations, and he remembers his conversation with the boys yesterday, and Jonas telling him to give Even the benefit of the doubt, and Even  _wants_ to sit next to him now, so—

He nods. 

"Hi," it comes out a little breathless. 

"Hi," Even replies, and his smile only ever so slightly pulls at his mouth, and it does reach his eyes, but barely. 

Isak's heart really needs to calm down. He takes a deep breath. 

"What—"

"I'm sorry," Even interrupts. "I know you texted me." 

"Hm." Isak looks down for a second. "I did."

"I just, hm—" he seems to hesitate, again, seems to feel guilty, and him feeling bad for not wanting to go out with him is really the last he wants right now. 

"It's okay, if you didn't want to go out with me, like, I just thought we had this thing, maybe, but maybe I just interpreted things wrong and like, you didn't want to, I don't know—but like, I do wish you'd told just me, that I would've preferred, instead of suddenly nothing? I think, I don't know. You know?" he quickly rambles, feeling more and more like an idiot as the words come out of his mouth. 

And now Even has this  _look_ , like he's feeling sorry for him, and honestly, why isn't time travel a thing yet? And teleportation? Can Isak just get off this train now? Is that a possibility? 

The train starts taking off. Well, guess not. 

"We do have...this thing," Even tells him. 

Isak instantly feels warmth spread through his chest, and his shoulders slack a little.

 _Oh_.

"We do?" 

Even bites his bottom lip, and nods. 

"I, hm. You know, I used to date this guy when I lived there, and I hadn't seen him since we broke up, and yesterday..."

"You saw him," Isak finishes. 

"Yeah," he replies. "There were a few little things I wanted to pick up while I was there, and, you know, we didn't end things on good terms." He looks away momentarily, and then back into Isak's eyes. "I wasn't feeling the best and I didn't want to fake it, with you, and I didn't want to tell you either and burden you on the last night of your trip. I knew it'd pass soon, and I thought I'd text you then, since we both live in the same city anyway. I swear I didn't mean to just leave you hanging, and I'm sorry if I kind of did." 

Isak's chest tightens slightly at the revelation. He offers him a little smile. "We could've just hung out, you know. I wouldn't have minded you not feeling the best. " 

"Yeah?"

"Of course," Isak replies, and he truly means that. It would've been much better than to walk around the city alone, have a meal and a drink all by himself, constantly wondering why the guy he likes isn't replying to him. Of course he would've preferred to spend time with him.

Isak notices the slight redness in Even's eyes, and the faint bags under them—both signs of lack of sleep. 

Even  _looks_ a little tired right now. 

"You should get some rest," Isak tells him. 

Even huffs out a quiet laugh. "That awful, hm?" 

Isak slowly shakes his head. "No," he replies softly. 

He pulls up the armrest between them, and barely even hesitates before he gently taps on his own shoulder. 

Even's eyes go from Isak's shoulder, to his eyes, as he seems to consider the invitation. And then, he adjusts himself on his seat, and slowly, he leans his head, and it comes to rest on Isak's shoulder. 

Isak can feel his hair against his neck, and against his cheek when he leans his head toward him, and it's soft, and Isak wants to—

He sneaks an arm around Even's back, and his hand comes to rest on his side. "Is this okay?" he asks. 

He feels Even nod. 

They don't speak after that, and Isak can hear the sound of Even's breathing, gradually slowling down. He's completely relaxed against him. 

"Even?" he whispers, his voice barely audible. He doesn't get a reply; Even probably fell asleep. Isak smiles to himself a little, turns his head and he—

He places a gentle kiss on his hair. 

An hour passes, and another, and Isak's arm has gone slightly numb, but he doesn't really mind. He's glad—to be here with Even, to be here for Even, even if it's just by offering him a shoulder to sleep on, like Even had done a few days ago. 

> _**Jonas** _
> 
> _Party at my place on friday, you guys coming?_
> 
> **_Mahdi_ **
> 
> _Of course_
> 
> **_Magnus_ **
> 
> _Gimme a Y_
> 
> _Gimme an E_
> 
> _Gimme an S_
> 
> _Gimme a YES!_
> 
> _**Jonas**  
>  _
> 
> _Mags..._
> 
> **_Magnus_ **
> 
> _I watched bring it on last night, I was feeling very inspired_
> 
> **_Mahdi_ **
> 
> _Haha_
> 
> _I can tell_

Isak clumsily tries to type a reply by holding his phone and typing with his left hand.

> _**Isak** _
> 
> _Yea ill be the_
> 
> _Thee_
> 
> _Jee_
> 
> _Jeez_
> 
> _I'll be there_
> 
> **_Jonas_ **
> 
> _Haha, you alright bro?_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Sorry i got my arn full_
> 
> _arm_
> 
> **_Mahdi_ **
> 
> _?_
> 
> **_Jonas_ **
> 
> _?_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _Of even_
> 
> _The guy_
> 
> **_Magnus_ **
> 
> **__ **
> 
> **__ **
> 
> __

Isak chuckles, and locks his phone. But then Even starts shifting against him, letting out a small groan, and Isak grimaces a little. He lifts his head off Isak's shoulder, and there are a few sleep lines on his cheek, his brow is slightly furrowed and his eyes not fully open and he's still breathing slowly.

Isak melts at the sight. 

"Did I wake you up?" he asks apologetically. 

Even lets out a yawn, and Isak yawns in return. Their eyes meet and Even smiles a sleepy smile, shaking his head. "Can I just..." He nods toward Isak's shoulder. 

"Sure, sure." 

Even puts his head back down on Isak's shoulder, and Isak might just revel at that.

"Can I..." he begins again. "Can I tell you something?" 

"Yes, of course you can," he's quick to reply. 

"I'm bipolar," he says, and then, quickly adds "I thought you should know."

Isak gently rubs his side. "Okay," he tells him. 

He knows about bipolar disorder. Not extensively, but he's first heard about it through Magnus back in high school, when he had told him about his mother who has it, and then by navigating through different webpages about mental illness when his mother had been diagnosed with schizophrenia a few years ago. He had learned about it briefly in med school as well, had read about it in the ICD. 

The movements of his hand become wider, and he runs it up and down Even's side.

"That's why," he starts, but doesn't continue. 

"Hm?"

"That's the main reason why we, hm, ended things, back then." 

Isak remembers what Even had told him earlier; how he and his ex hadn't ended their relationship on good terms. He clenches his jaw a little. 

"It's really not easy to deal with me sometimes, honestly, it can get really complicated," he says, like he's arguing a case against himself. 

"Which is why you should be with someone who's supportive," Isak softly counters. 

He rests his chin on top of Even's head. Even lets out a sigh, curling his shoulders forward, and Isak adjusts his arm around him. "You know, the worst is that the one thing I wanted to get back the most, he had thrown away." 

"For real? Fuck him." 

"Fuck him," Even repeats with quiet laugh. 

"What was...what was the thing, if you don't mind me asking?"

He feels Even inhaling against him, and Isak squeezes him for a second. "It was this Romeo and Juliet VHS."

"Oh?"

"I mean, I don't even have a VHS player at my place, so...But, hm, it's one of my favorite films ever, by my favorite director. The VHS came out in early 1997, right around when I was born, you know?" 

Isak can't help but smile at that, endeared. "It's a really nice coincidence," he says.

"Yeah?"

Isak nods. "Yeah, I like it." 

Even nuzzle his shoulder, and his hand comes to rest on Isak's stomach, fingers toying with his hoodie a little. "I like you," he tells him, and with his ear against him like that, he can probably hear Isak's heartbeat picking up speed, but—

"I like you too," he admits right back. 

***

They get off the train, and they wrap their arms around each other at the station. It probably looks like they're saying goodbye, but it feels like the complete opposite. 

Even places a kiss right above his jaw, and Isak hears the smack of his lips. He's floating a little, and his grin is wide. He turns his head, kisses him on a similar spot.  

> _**Isak** _
> 
> _Did you know_
> 
> _I was supposed to take a train this morning, but I missed it_
> 
> _Which is why I took this one_
> 
> **_Even train_ **
> 
> _Seriously?_
> 
> **_Isak_  **
> 
> _Yes_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _I'm glad :)_
> 
> _I mean_
> 
> _I'm sorry you missed it. But I'm glad_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _I'm glad, too :)_

It grew a little today, their seed. Isak is pretty certain he saw something peeking out of the soil by the time he left the train station.

_***_

The next day, Even is the one who suggests they see each other.  

> _**Even Train** _
> 
> _What are you doing this friday?_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _My friend's hosting a party_
> 
> _You should come_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> _Only if you save me a dance :)_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _We'll see_
> 
> **_Even Train_ **
> 
> **__ **
> 
> _**Isak** _
> 
> _**** _

Isak might read the exchange a few times as he lies in his bed at night, and once more on his way to school. He might start thinking about Even, and his face, and his smell, and the way he feels against him, and he might start smiling at the most random times because of that.

He might.

***

The idea comes to him as he browses through the Netflix library.

> _**Isak** _
> 
> _Hey_
> 
> _Where could I find a movie in VHS? Like, which store?_
> 
> **_Jonas_ **
> 
> _Why are you asking me?_
> 
> _Also why don't you just buy it online?_
> 
> **_Isak_ **
> 
> _It's your department_
> 
> _Also I need it soon_
> 
> **_Jonas_ **
> 
> _My department?_  
> 
> _**Isak** _
> 
> _You know, hipster stores where they sell old stuff like that_
> 
> _Pleaaaase?_

Isak finds himself going to only one of the four thrift stores Jonas told him about, and it's pretty much a miracle that he finds it on his first try considering that the selection of VHS he comes across really isn't wide at all. 

Sometimes, the universe works in ways that make Isak believe that certain things are just meant to happen. Him meeting Even on the train on his way to Stockholm, and then again on his way to Oslo, him finding the  _Romeo+Juliet_ VHS so easily. It all feels like it might be just that—the universe making sure that things happen the way they are meant to. 

*** 

So, Isak is already a little drunk at the end of their pregame.

"Guys, guys, he's  _coming_." 

"Who's coming?" Mahdi asks, feigning confusion. 

"Yeah, who's coming? I haven't heard you mention it like, sixty four times in the past hour or anything like that," Jonas chimes in. 

"Isak already told us that  _Even_ , the  _guy_ ," Magnus stops to wink exaggeratedly. "Is coming tonight." 

Isak swings an arm around Magnus. "He is," he squeals. 

Even does come; showing up an hour later and looking like a dream. The alcohol makes him feel a little warm, but there's this sight, too—his whole body melts a little. And it fills him with quiet excitement and happiness, when their eyes meet, when Even offers him a gorgeous smile and heads toward him. 

"Hi, Isak," he greets him, leans in and pecks his cheek. 

There are goosebumps on the back of his neck. "Hi, Even." 

"You said," Even starts, and he takes Isak's hand in his. "You'd save a dance for me, hm?"

"I—" Isak looks down at their joined hands. "I don't really know how to dance, you know." 

Even's grin could honestly light up this entire place. "I don't really care." 

"Might be embarrassing." 

Even squeezes his hand slightly, makes a small step toward him and they're almost pressed against each other now. He smells so good, clean and crisp and somehow familiar, underneath it all—it's intoxicating. 

"Impossible," he tells Isak.

And then they're dancing, not quite to the rhythm of the music and maybe, maybe, Isak is embarrassing himself a little right now, but he—he really doesn't care. His arms are around Even's neck and Even's hands are on the small of his back, and they're moving together, and Isak giggles, happy. Even seems happy as well, and  _oh_ , Isak really hopes he is, thinks he deserves to be.

"I found a Romeo and Juliet VHS the other day, for you," he says into his ear.

Even's fingertips dig slightly into his back, and he almost stops moving altogether. "You did?" 

Isak nods, kisses his ear, his cheek, stops at the corner of his mouth. "I like you so much," he breathes out. "I have it at home," he says, and anticipation spreads all the way down to his toes. "Come with me." 

Even nods. "Okay," he whispers, and Isak almost feels it against his mouth. 

Isak finds Magnus on his way out. 

"Hey!" Magnus greets cheerfully. "Is that—" he starts, not so subtly pointing at Even. 

"Yes," Isak interrupts. "We're leaving, bye!"

"Aw, but you didn't even introduce me." Magnus holds out his hand. "I'm Magnus!" 

Even shakes his hand, chuckling. "Even." 

"Okay, we're going now," Isak almost complains. "I have to give Even his VHS."

"Oh," Magnus wiggles his eyebrows at Even. "Give you a VHS," he enunciates, punctuating his words with air quotes. 

Isak groans.

Isak spots the empty seats at the back of the tram on the way to his place, and they sit there. There's this sort of bubble that surrounds them and Isak is both buzzing from the alcohol and the thrill of being with Even, and growing a little sleepy. Even interlaces their fingers, smiles so sweetly at him. He looks so beautiful just now, eyes a little darker, and Isak wonders how he didn't fall for him the very first second he saw him. 

(But maybe he did, after all—maybe he did.) 

Isak lets his head fall on Even's shoulder, readjusts it so his face fits into the crook of his neck. And it's a nice feeling, so warm in his belly, to know that he's not only going to the same place as Even, but that they're going there together, this time around.

***

The sunlight peaking through his curtains hits Isak's eyes the next morning, and he groans, lazily turns around and finds Even sitting at the edge of his bed. 

"Good morning," Even greets him. He lies back down on the bed, propped up on his forearms and looking down at Isak with a smile that's much more pleasant to the eye than the sun. 

"Good morning," Isak mumbles, but then he's smiling, too. "What time is it?" 

"Ten thirty," Even replies, leans in to kiss Isak's forehead, his nose, his lips, spends the most time on the latter, and Isak sighs. His head is throbbing a little, but he feels good, like this. He really does.  

"How long have you been up?" he asks against his mouth, reaches out and runs his fingers through Even's hair. 

"Since eight, so..."

Isak frowns. "You've been up for more than two hours? Why didn't you wake me?" 

"Why would I wake you up? You looked so peaceful, just now," he says, kisses him again. "Besides, we have time," he adds, kissing him once more. "We have time." 

And then they're making out slowly, for one, five, ten minutes—Isak isn't too sure at this point, only knows that he's so glad to have this, at last. 

It's a lazy afternoon on the couch of his living room, after they have breakfast. Their ankles and arms intertwined, Isak turning his head away from the screen two minutes into  _Catch Me If You Can._

Even weakly protests, at first. " _Isak_ , the movie—it's a really good one." But then his hand finds its place on the back of Isak's head, and they're making out again, Isak sitting in his lap and Even bringing him close with an arm on his back. 

"Is this going to be a thing, us not being able to watch movies together?" Even pants. 

Isak goes still for a moment, confused, but then he  _remembers—_ how he had fallen asleep on Even's shoulder the first time they had attempted to watch a movie together. He laughs, head thrown back a little, and Even kisses his throat, and laughs as well. 

***

They go on what Even calls their _first official date_ , a few days later. He invites him over for diner, and then they go to the movies. Isak promises to actually watch it, this time. 

There are only three empty seats in the middle of the bus they take to get to the theatre, and they both sit there. Even puts his hand on Isak's thigh and Isak rests his hand on top of his, strokes the side of Even's thumb with his. 

Even blows him a kiss, a playful look in his eyes, and Isak smiles, leans in to give him a proper kiss. And in this moment he really doesn't care about not sitting at the back. Thinks that it doesn't matter where he sits, really, when he's sitting with this boy.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you if you read this, honestly, you're wonderful! do let me know what you thought, if you want to 
> 
>  
> 
> you can find me on tumblr [heeeere](http://skamz.tumblr.com) :)


End file.
